Bare Necessities

a world drowning

under despair’s deluge

constant cynical commentary

flooding psyche’s plains

requires a hike

beyond stagnant swamp

in dogged pursuit

of pristine purlieu

a clearing of mind


in a mountain glade

pearls of pacification


among the madding crowd

bloom hardy


violet invocations

of their name

Thoreau’s prose

expounded virtues



from bromide-induced


millennial poets

reverse course

revert versification



verdant veracities

Warrior Weary

this breastplate

ironclad cover o’er

ferociously beating

scarred and mending heart

grows burdensome

weighting my wending ways

my shield

hammered protector

fending off thrusts

of javelin or sword

forged in blood and tears

curtails lacerations

bows burdened shoulders

this sword

forged in fires

of smelted self

brandishes fortitude

in mortal offensives

wards off assaults

strains tender limbs

I long to lay down

my nicked chainmail

dented armor

lighten heavy heart

saunter undefended

bare of foot and limb

lift my face to the sun

forward through my days


A Conversation, Colored Lonely

(written in collaboration with the inimitable Lois E Linkens)


it is at night,
when the silence screams the loudest.
when the curtains are drawn,
and the candle snuffed –
the air is burnt,
with the orange glow
of the blackened wick.
a single star
in an empty sky,
a tiger’s eye
in the witching forest,
a lonely car
on the midnight highway.

in the daylight

the silence is shushed

its horns ground down

under the trampling of the day

it finds kindred spirits

lurking in the pauses

poised to pounce

between hither and yon

a rabid Chimera

intent on foiling its captors

it is at night,
when the silence grows its wings;
when it becomes
arms and fingers
that squeeze and squash,
leaving their purple stains
across my skin.
so tomorrow,
i’ll cover up –
for what does loneliness wear,
when it wants to make a friend?


in the daylight

I dress to kill that silence

bedecked with breastplates

silvery self-reliance

protecting mawkish heartstrings

strained to breaking

by the violent plucking

of the silence in the

blue-black night

diamond crusted gauntlets

constrict my fingers

stretching toward contact


it is at night,
when the ancient words echo;
Plato’s Symposium
rattles through my brain
like bullets fleeing from the barrel.
you are incomplete,
he whispers;
your God-given substance
will not sustain,
your severed arms
are bound to flail
in this darkness,
grappling for a mate
that never comes near.
as i topple on the edge of sleep,
the condescending voice
of ancient wisdom
bends my will across its knee.


in the daylight

learned philosophers


under Ra’s harsh glare –

elderly drunkards

babbling in their cups –

beneath the penetrating rays

hypocrisy illumined.

I splashdown

in the well of loneliness

dug by my constraints

listen as they old-woman cackle

when I savor the dip.

I taste the madness

of love requited

sip from my flask

fractious firewater

eau de fierce independence

with the throatiest of howls

I birth my own

dancing star




Surprise Party

when she least expected it

they threw her a party

it was a fabulously festive fete

decorated in lavish

ballooned festoonery

hued in iridescent luminosity

tinted in fairy twinkling stardust


there was no calendared occasion

for this carousel of carousing choruses

chambered in octet octaves

orchestrated by rocking seraphim

harmonizing with oceanic refrains

breezing on celestial whispers

sung in angelic dulcet tones


the banquet was catered

by Dionysian attendants

bearing fruits of Gaia’s garden

reaped under harvest moon

cornucopia’d on Celtic crystal

draughted with Ambrosia

dribbled fingertips to lips


the ambience was perfumed

with subtle scent selections

wafting hints of honeysuckle

floating through tunnels

of aromatic essence

fragranced in lavendered layers

spiced with redolent seduction


they decked her out in haute couture

choreographing costume changes

tantalizing skin softly

draped in diaphanous silks

bewinged of gossamer feathers

cloaks of cascading chiffon

her words outdid themselves


(image: pinterest)

Contextual Tango, Greened

Written in collaboration with a very Clever (make that Ward Clever) poet


From across the room

you catch their eyes

smile hazeled twinkles

while crooking the finger

of your jostling thoughts

the words don’t realize

they are wending toward you

until they stand breath held

two steps back, left side


Bending to your will

their eyes follow, captivating

whispers pouring from lips

right hand on the small of your back

your green emeralds fractured

hearing them in kaleidoscope

they form in mist on window glass

you finally exhale

breathe in secret messages


Under centripetal force

of your dancing syllables

they twirl in burbling cadence

threading whispers through stars

jades of your soul refracting

waft in impish perfume

scatter gems of hinted meaning

on a symphonic whim

each breath a studded lifetime


Furtively, like Cupid’s assassins

they gracefully stalk your senses

arching backs, hazel lights ablaze

shooting glances into hearts

savoring verdant spirits

intoxicating to discern

dizzying lyrical harmonies

breaths escape in laughter

with smiles, the chasers


In metaphors’ enchantment

swim arcs of fantasy

scented emerald as the isles

you spin through luscious syntaxes

orchestrating heady liberty

fleetfooted and provocative

they pause, softly wink

you gasp inaudibly

anticipate the leap


Hands meet in chiasmus

the steps foretold in dreams

leaving softly spoken footprints

in sea foam scrubbed sand

they harmonize in dulcet tones

daring your aerial motion

catching you in sweet nothings

breathing in lullabies

singing songs of your grace


Their choreography phases

shifts to luminous humming

draping across your soul

kelly blankets of intuition

bridge known and connotated

touching sips of permanence

in the pause between notions

drift murmurs salted sweet

your breathing sighs apace


Shadows from every letter

waltzing to minuets

stars twinkle to dazzling darkness

strobing, midori afterglow

their effect forming rivulets

streaming down your memories

you mouth the words

falling from sage lips

with one last tranquil breath



(photo: mine)